Dark Secrets
by Mynerva
Summary: Someone has been trying very hard to kill Colonel Jack O'Neill and has come very close. His team, however have had enough and it's a race against time to track down the one responsible before they finish the job.
1. Chapter 1

It felt wrong only being the three of them sat around the conference table, well three and the General who sat and listened intently to Daniel's debriefing. It had been a tough mission for all of them, none more so than Daniel. It was supposed to be a standard recon, but then that's how most of their bad, really bad missions started. Sam half wondered if it was that was the soul reason they seemed to get into the worst kind of trouble, the promise of an easy outing luring them into a false sense of security and the resulting chaos and misery ensued.

She watched as Daniel explained, Teal'c beside her, his own eyes closed as Daniel's words caused them all to re-live that horrifying moment when their CO plummeted twenty-feet into a tree canopy and ultimately the floor below.

The fall was the result of faulty climbing equipment, the Colonel being the unlucky one to have chosen that particular set. Sam was in a way glad that Daniel hadn't had the same misfortune, not because she favoured him above the Colonel, but because if it wasn't for Daniel being in-tact and so desperate to help his injured friend, Colonel O'Neill would be dead now instead of just extremely bruised and suffering a broken leg for his troubles.

A thought that saw her blink back tears, Oh how her heart had tore as she watched him fall, first ten-feet only to stop and frantically work to solve the rope problem before that final push of gravity slammed him to the ground below.

"Continue, Dr. Jackson." The General urged when Daniel had stopped without warning. Sam took a moment to study him. When they had come back through the gate, Daniel was covered from head to toe in mud, soaked to the skin and completely exhausted. Everyone had been so completely worried about the Colonel in the state that he had been carried back in, that Daniel had managed to just sneak away, escaping the grip of the medical staff to shower and be alone. As such he was clean, and now in warm clothes, but his hair remained soaking wet and pushed back from his face, though now as it dried, tendrils of that long floppy hair began to fall and frame his face.

He sat back, almost slumped in the chair as he frowned, seeming to pull his words into order before continuing, his mouth opening and closing but only the faintest of sound emerging. It was like his voice was to exhausted to work, the only mutterings it could manage, were brief, choked rasps. He attempted to clear what ever was restricting his words a few times, but the forced coughs only made his voice more strangled and even promoted a coughing fit or two.

Sam, still teary got up, pushing her own discomfort and emotion aside and made for the water cooler filling a small paper cup half-way and returning it to him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks," he muttered and slowly drank the contents down, his eyes closing briefly as he clearly enjoyed the coolness the water offered. He ran a now moist tongue over dry lips and this time when he spoke he was a little clearer, though not without the coughing still and Sam returned a few times with another drink as the de-brief continued.

"Major Mitchel thought it was best no one else followed us down. He didn't want to chance anyone else on the team would suffer the same accident..." Daniel continued and the General sat back and just listened intently. A brief silence stretched before General Hammond finally inputted his thoughts.

"I am very concerned by this, people. Did no one think to check the equipment before you put it to use, considering the past couple of weeks?"

Daniel just looked down at his cut and sore hands, while Sam took the initiative.

"They were inspected, sir. By the security team you posted to the Colonel before we left for PX1-759, and again by a member of the security team once we were planet side." This of course gave the General even more cause for concern and Sam closed her eyes as she thought back over the past few weeks.

Attempts on the Colonel's life had been made with alarming frequency as of late, it was only his unusual luck that saw him scrape by with only minor injuries. The incidents were happening so regularly that the General had posted a patrol in the Colonel's neighbourhood just to protect him, which seemed to stop them for a while. Until these attempts, or rather freakish accidents now followed him off world.

He had almost been blown up by a faulty mine, and his own weapon had backfired. It was now the security team had been posted to accompany him off-world but still it happened. Who ever was behind it, sure was resourceful.

"Alright," the General raised his voice, obviously angry by what this meant. "I want a full investigation, thorough back-ground checks done on everyone who had access to that equipment, as well as the name of the man responsible for that final check." Sam nodded and looked over at Daniel who hadn't looked up from giving his initial report. "Dr. Jackson, if you can continue, I would like to know how you and Major Mitchel managed to get back to the gate." Daniel still didn't move an inch. "Dr. Jackson?" At the sound of his name yet again, Daniel finally lifted his head and fixed the General with bright-blue, red-rimmed eyes, the left blood-shot to hell.

"I'm sorry, what?" His voice barely audible choked out the sentence but the General was obviously more concerned with his man, than hearing the rest of the report.

"It's fine, Dr. Jackson. It's obviously been a very stressful three-days for you, go get some rest, that's an order, and come back to my office when you're up to filling in the blanks."

"Yes, General."

---

Hammond stood and both Sam and Teal'c done like-wise. Daniel himself tried but had only stretched half way by the time Hammond had nodded and issued his dismissal. Now standing straight, Daniel's whole body was protesting. From his feet which were cut and blistered from the - mostly - uphill treks to his shoulders, which were bruised from the harness he had wore, initially for his ab-sailing but as events turned for the worse he had fashioned a kind of sled out of the stretcher. It was all he could think of to get Jack back up to the high-ground which held the gate and the harness was perfect to attach the stretcher to, leaving Daniel free to use hands, feet, tooth and nail to get the traction he needed, to get up there and get them home...

In hind-sight it would have made more sense to walk the miles to were the ground slopped down, rather than ab-sail down a sheer drop. A fact Daniel was sure he brought up at some point during the whole disaster.

_"Where's the fun in that?"_

Jack's voice echoed from his memory.

"Daniel?" He looked to his left where Sam stood, her hands itching to reach for him but he was stubborn and she knew it. Any attempt to help him would be shoved back gracelessly though not with malice. Daniel was intensely private, to used to being alone and doing things alone. Was it any wonder he was able to cut himself off from his home world completely and live on another planet light years away? It was a transition he found easy to achieve as he was used to just depending on himself. A trait he had counted entirely on during these past three days. "You look..."

"I feel." He replied with a small weary smile.

"You should do as General Hammond instructed, Daniel Jackson."

"I intend to. Honestly I'm not sure how much energy I have left," he confirmed as he politely eased by Sam who hovered as close as she knew Daniel was comfortable with. "Actually if I'm being honest I hit empty a day ago." That was also when their water ran out, or rather they were down to the one bottle, to which he gave to Jack and rationed it so dehydration wouldn't be on the list of his friends ailments when they finally did get home.

"Come on," Sam ignored her friends boundaries and rubbed his arm as an older sibling would. "I'll walk you to the nearest bunk." A tempting offer in Daniel's mind, but it wasn't the place he was headed to just yet and he shook off the suggestion.

"I'm not leaving Jack yet," he said stubbornly. "I just wanted to shower and tell the General what I could, but I promised Jack I would see him through this."

"You got him home, Daniel. Come on you're dead on your feet."

"But I'm still on my feet, and while I am, I promised Jack nothing would get him, no one would hurt him..." He coughed at that point, having tried to clear the hoarseness out of his throat and failed. If anything he irritated it more. "Whoever is behind this, they very nearly killed him this time," he felt emotion threaten to crush his chest. During his whole life he had never gotten close to no more than two people. One had been stripped from him and was now lost somewhere in the universe, the other was breathing with the aid of a respirator in the infirmary. "I had to fight to get him back here with a pulse, I'm not stopping now so someone can finish the job."

"He'll be safe with..."

"The security detail? Sam, the way the General put it, he seems to think one of those men might be in on it!"

"I was going to say, me." Daniel sighed having put his foot in it completely but Sam just shook her head with a smile. "Daniel, please go and get some sleep, I promise I'm not letting him out of my sight."

"Nor I." Concurred Teal'c.

Sam, now completely ignoring Daniel's defencive walls, looped her arm through his and gave a gentle squeeze.

"You done so well to get him back," her words were choked and laced with more emotion than she would probably ever admit to later on but Daniel nodded sharing her anguish. "You saved his life and we're all going to need to be strong now more than ever, so when and if they strike again, we're ready..."

A good argument, usually Daniel was the one to persuade others to re-evaluate their reasoning and accept others opinions as one that should also count. It seemed Sam had been taking notes.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two.

The infirmary was fast becoming far to familiar to Sam it seemed that each week one of them was stuck here with either some freaky alien illness or soon to be battle scar. The one baring most of those scars was so far Colonel O'Neill. He was currently laid up, right leg in traction. Funnily enough to the same leg he had smashed against an icy floor when both of them had been hurtled through the gate at impossible speed. They were lucky not to have been killed on the initial landing, if you could call it that.

Still, it was hardly a surprise that it was that particular leg which had gave up once more. The first time he broke it she had done her best to set it right, something which had to be done with no pain relief and no alcohol much to the Colonel's dismay and Sam's absolute horror. Every time she pulled and tugged, trying to put the limb level with the bone it had broken from, she felt the vibrations, the grinding coming from beneath the surface of the skin as it cut through muscle and tendon... Even now she cringed at the mere thought, knowing that if she didn't get it right he would loose it. She thanked God each day he didn't, but how lucky could he be? Again he was facing that possible scenario. This time it had been Daniel who had bore the responsibility, the one on the team who was the least experienced in wilderness survival and combat. Sure he had been given a couple of crash courses but hell, it was tough on Sam who had under-gone years of specialist training to face just that kind of life or death situation, Daniel, well...

Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the familiar and very friendly face of Dr. Frasier. The small Air force Doctor hadn't been with the SGC all that long, but she knew SG-1 very well, a thought that only provided proof of the long list of bad luck the team were currently having right now.

"You alright, Captain?" Frasier asked as she made a note of the various states of the man currently in the bed before them.

"Better than him."

Frasier just tilted her head slightly. "It looks worse than it actually is," she referred to the right leg, currently aloft. "He actually managed to break it in the same place as before."

"That's good?"

"Well, he could have wrecked the other leg in its place." Frasier gave a grin as she placed her pen back in her breast pocket. "This way he's still got one good leg out of the two, well not counting the knees."

"What's wrong with his knees?" Sam asked worry etched clear into her features but Frasier actually laughed.

"Nothing, well apart from the fact they're showing signs of wear and tear. Don't tell him I told you but they're starting to causing him more discomfort than he will ever admit to." A silence began, only broken by the sound of Colonel O'Neill's breathing through the mask.

"What's the mask for?" Sam finally spoke and Frasier was only to glad to ask the questions being directed at her. It was refreshing to have someone explain in detail about these things it made it easier for Sam to understand what was wrong and what it was that was going to make him better again. Suddenly all the equipment didn't look so bad.

"...and this is watching his temperature, any sudden increase in this and we can take measures to help him fight off any infection before it gets to bad."

"Thanks."

"For what?" Frasier asked genuinely baffled by the sudden statement.

"For explaining, you're probably the first Doctor in here to take the time and actually explain and not fill my head with medical mumbo jumbo..."

"My pleasure, Captain and it's sorta my job."

"Please, call me Sam." She stood and extended a hand in friendship, sure they had met before today but this was the first time they had actually spoke in any depth.

"Janet," the other woman offered, taking the offered hand and shaking.

"It's wild isn't it, this place?"

"Oh I love it. Not many places have been able to challenge me like this."

"Challenge, interesting way to put it."

Janet smiled and gave Sam's arm a little rub, barely on first name basis but the woman's kindness and caring affection took Sam aback. "He will be fine I promise. And if anything changes with him I will make sure you're one of the first to know. Why don't you go get some sleep?"

"No, me and Teal'c are here for the long haul. To much has gone wrong lately, we're not leaving him."

"Yes, General Hammond did mention something, I'm guessing it's the reason why this extra security

has been posted."

"Yeah well, that extra security hasn't helped. We're all starting to think who ever is behind all this has influence stretching right into our ranks. All baring SG-1."

Janet nodded and smiled. "Well since my first priority is to my patient and given the situation I have to ask you to stay and help me ensure he gets out of here fit and well, if not with a pair of crutches and a limp."

---

How the hell had it got this far? How had it actually happened!? Questions he put to the small gathering in his private quarters, a total of fifteen men in all, all from various posts, from the infirmary to the canteen, two even on base security. They had all known each other for about a year now, well he and Jame's Crosby had anyway. They were the first to sit in this room, drink whiskey and smoke a bit of pot over a nice friendly card game as they talked about their very own Colonel O'Neill and how much they would like to see him knocked of his damn high-horse.

Cameron Dooley for as long as he could remember had always been different. He liked the finer things in life and somehow knew he was different, being different and deserved to have those finer things. His family was poor however and as soon as he left - or rather dropped out of high-school he was pushed into a job, a number of those in fact, by his parents. They were all a disaster, all had him ending on bad terms with his employer and finally his parents had enough. They pushed him into the Military, a career a little hard to get out of once he was in. And so...here he was working, just like his bloody parents wanted and surrounded by jerks like O'Neill. Guys who thought they were 'all that'.

He spent long days, weeks and months working under the guy, never quite meeting the fine standard the guy expected and subsequently found himself performing the most demeaning tasks. Scrubbing toilets, mopping the gate-room and serving fucking tea to the freaks that came through the gate.

Not exactly the way he pictured his life.

It was during one of these particularly demoralising tasks that O'Neill introduced him to James Crosby, a lowly Airman who had also crossed O'Neill's path and both spent the rest of that day getting to know the base sewer-system to unblock a blockage. He literally smelt like shit for weeks as did James. As such they were the only people who could stand to be in the same room as each other and a friendship formed.

He guessed it was being in O'Neill's bad books that got Cameron acquainted with the other no-good slackers, as O'Neill had put it. And so this 'Slackers Against O'Neill' club started to grow. They sat at night and joked around, dreaming up ways to annoy the guy the next day. Pretty soon they developed into challenges, each picking a dare out of a hat. For the canteen staff it would be something like, 'spill the contents of the slops tray over O'Neill' or 'Salt in the Coffee'. For the office staff, 'Sabotage the printer'. The guys had a lot of fun with that one, especially when the guys in security transmitted the contents of the tape around the base, clearly showing O'Neill trying to desperately control the amount of paper spilling out of the printer. All harmless stuff, but stuff that seriously wound the guy up.

It didn't take O'Neill long to retaliate from that and as such Cameron and the guys demeaning duties had doubled and so the pranks stopped, but the talking didn't. As far as Cameron knew it was just talk, but everything they had talked about had actually happened to the guy. They joked at first about it going as far as to say the group had its own 'Guardian Angel' granting their wishes. But now, it was far from funny. It had stopped being funny for a while now if he was honest, back when the guy first ended up in the Infirmary after almost being knocked down in the street. Now it was scary.

"I wanna know who's doing it!" He screamed at the top of his voice, sweat obvious on his face, his jet black hair a common feature of his Oriental heritage, short but long enough to be sticking to that clammy skin.

Blank expressions answered him, others looked away. Sure they all had something against O'Neill, but not one wanted him dead. The guy was a legend and had saved their ass from those freaks out there plenty of times.

"It can't be coincidence that what we talk about in here is actually happening!"

"Karma?" Came a bone head suggestion and Cameron wasted little time in slapping that particular head.

"It's not Karma, it's not a Faerie God-Mother, it's not the Easter Bunny, and it's not Captain-fucking-America! Someone is using our ideas to knock O'Neill off!"

"What's so bad about that, I mean we hate the guy right?"

"What's bad about it? WHAT'S FUCKING BAD ABOUT IT?" He took a breath to calm down. "I'll tell you what's bad about it, our ideas! We all talk about this, everything we've talked about wanting to happen to O'Neill has ACTUALLY happened to him! Who - do you think - is Hammond is going to suspect if what goes on behind these walls becomes public knowledge!"

Silence.

"Us you bloody fools! And I am damn sure I am not going to be blamed, so I want to know who it is that's doing it because I am going to turn you in."

"You can't do that!"

"What man, what the--"

"Are you crazy--"

"Why the--"

The chorus of responses surprised him, how could they condone this, this isn't what they were about. All he wanted was a laugh with friends, who like him didn't fit in here yet had to suck it up and get on with things, killing someone? That wasn't fun to him at all.

"What the hell-- This wasn't what I started, I wanted jokes, pranks a laugh! I don't want blood on my hands, damnit!"

"Well neither do we," James stated to his friend. "What we're trying to tell you is none of us here are responsible for O'Neill's accidents."

"Then who is?"


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three.

_"I'm telling you, Daniel it's cake!"_

Words echoed from his memory as he stared fixedly at a spot on the bunk above, silently noting the obvious stains where liquid of some sort had been spilt and he prayed it was a drink and nothing else, though most of the guys who slept in these things were bound to have more exciting night-time activities besides spilling their hot-chocolate while reading a good book. No, Daniel figured that was a crime only one such as he would be guilty of.

_"You need to relax and start to live a little."_

He squeezed his eyes closed and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose trying to alleviate the pressure building up behind his eyes.

He had been laid there for an hour almost and hadn't managed to close his eyes for more than a few minutes when his mind decided to play out images he had no wish to see then or ever. The worst being...

_"You have to do it now, do it now before he wakes up, for God's sake, Daniel."_

He grunted and quickly - or as quick as he could - sat up. He had to stop thinking about it or he would never sleep again. He sat on the edge of the bunk, his bare feet cooling on the stone floor and as he shifted his feet slightly to relieve the pressure building up in his travel weary limbs, he noted the faint imprints of moisture left there. Even in just his shorts he felt hot and the now monumental headache thumping a dance beat behind his eyes was probably a good indication he was far from well.

_"God it hurts!"_

"...hurts." He stood and started for the bathroom, he had to wash his face, drink something. He felt so anxious. The small wash room was little more than a toilet and a sink when in reality he could have done with the full jet powered heat of a shower. He doubted he could make it all the way to the locker rooms now without help so this would have to do.

Running the water he filled his shaking hands, briefly noticing the cuts around the fingers, the dirt still firmly wedged under his short nails and the bruising from his wrist leading up into his fore-arm.

_"Daniel! Stop it, now please, stop!"_

He choked back a sob and assailed his face with the water, reaching under the gushing tap once more and doing the same. Hoping the sound of the water would be enough to stop this...this noise! It was over, all that had been said, been done, he'd had Jack suffer once already, he didn't want to see it, do it again!

_"I have to do this, Jack!"_

More water, up and over his face, his head down his shoulders and back, the iciness of it.

_"Stop!"_

_"I can't, you'll loose it if I don't!"_

_"I don't care!"_

Light.

"Well I do!" He stared at himself in the mirror for a long time, wondering why he had called out. He was soaked again, his breathing ragged and now his throat felt incredibly sore. He stared back at himself, his skin pale and his eyes red-rimmed the left eye so blood-shot it looked like it would actually bleed out. He looked nothing like himself. He looked haunted...

Haunted by what he had to do, what he had to put Jack through in order to save him.

Jack had hit the floor with such force, although not as much force had he not been able to stop himself after the initial descent, had he not managed that he would have continued to the ground and split open like a ripe melon. A splat rather than the thud Daniel had heard since he was but inches away from when Jack had hit.

For a long time he stood not knowing what to do, till Sam's rushed and fear soaked words screamed at him through the Radio.

_"Colonel! Colonel O'Neill!" The silence that followed Sam's request for her CO's answer hung heavy in the air, surrounding and threatening to consume Daniel as he looked on at the still figure that had landed literally inches away. The woodland floor, disturbed by the impact, settled once more in that time. The dead leaf's and the dry dirt settling like sediment in the bottom of a cloudy drink. "Daniel, can you see him is he..."_

_It must have been the sound of his name that did it. Freed his rooted feet from the spot and he took that first step towards Jack. That silence, it made his leaf crunching steps so crisp and breifly he thought back to his days as a child running through the park. _

_Why wasn't jack getting up yet? Half of him expected the hot-headed Colonel to sit up and reel off a good few curses for the bruise he had just received on his arse._

_But he didn't._

_And he wasn't going to._

_"Daniel!"_

_"S..sorry, here." He answered into the Radio, an answer enough to infuriate Jack when he was in desperate need of input from the far-to-often-flaky civilian member of his team._

_"Daniel, is he alive!?" Sam pushed for an answer, desperate to know. "Mitchel, do you have visual?" Sam was usually patient with him, but in this instance not so much._

_Mitchel's response became like background noise to Daniel as he knelt down by Jack slowly. Part of his brain seemed to have closed down, as if protecting itself. What is Jack was dead? What if he was gone forever? The thought alone was enough to scare Daniel to hell and back and he looked down at Jack through tears he had no idea he was shedding._

_"J'ck?" He tested, praying to anything that was listening that he was okay._

_He got no answer._

_But he did notice something. Something that his so far numb mind had only just realised and with that realisation came the ability to function again._

_"Breathing...he's breathing..." Daniel muttered to himself and slowly reached for the radio. "He's breathing!" He called through it and as Sam's sigh of audible relief filtered through Daniel snapped out of it and set to work._

_He had a little knowledge of first aid. He remembered the most important rule being not to move them. Okay, that was fine because at that moment in time Daniel was to scared to touch him. But he had to. That was how he would check him. Gently but firmly he ran his hands down, first, either side of Jack's head. A warm, wet, sticky mess greeted his left hand, Jacks dark hair having hid the darker blood. He pressed into the wound but no bone gave beneath his probing fingers. Good._

_Shoulders where next, both were at the same angle, and the collar bones in tact. Arm's fine, they even moved without making crunching sounds. Rips, hips, legs..._

_Here was the problem._

_"Sam...his leg, it's..." He left it unsaid, she would know after all. His right leg once again had been broken._

_"You're gonna have to set it." Came her instant reply and the colour drained from Daniel's face. Had she been there Sam might be worried he would pass out._

_"I..I can't, Sam."_

_"You have to, if you don't he'll loose it!"_

_"We need a doctor down here."_

_"No one else is coming down here," interrupted Mitchel as he emerged from the trees. "I barely made it down here before my line gave. I'm not risking any more deaths."_

_"He's not dead." Daniel muttered, still pale and still in shock._

_"You have to do it now, do it now before he wakes up, for God's sake, Daniel." Sam's frantic words snatched him back from the daze and he looked down at Jack once more. What she said made sense, why wouldn't it? After all, Sam had lived this, Sam had been here before. Trouble was, he wasn't Sam and he most certainly couldn't do this._

_"Do what?"_

_Silence._

_To late. Jack had come to. He moved his arm up to nurse his obviously pounding head, the impact that had caused his obvious injuries, obviously to blame for the pain's Daniel couldn't see but his friend could most definitely feel._

_"Oh dear God!" Jack suddenly spat out, his face turning a bright shade of red, his mouth pull back thinly over his teeth as he bite down and screamed at the same time, his hands reaching for his badly twisted leg. "Arggggh! For cryin' out loud, Daniel!" Jack now blindly reached for the frightened man beside him, grabbing and pulling at his jacket. "It hurts, God it hurts!"_

_Daniel could do nothing but look into Jack's wild, pleading eyes as his hands pulled and almost tore his jacket. He shook his head, helpless not knowing what to do._

_"Daniel do it!" Sam called down into the radio, but Daniel could swore he heard her from the cliff above him too._

_He pushed Jack down and bit down on his own lip as he first positioned himself at Jacks feet. "Hold him down!" He snarled at Mitchel, wiping tears from his eyes as he done so. "Hold him down, because this is going to hurt..." Mitchel done as he was bid and Daniel wiped his eyes again, he needed to see, needed to make sure he got this put right, he didn't want to have to turn it and pull and end up going the wrong way. "Jack, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He said, one hand on Jacks shin, the other at the knee. "I'm sorry!"_

_He pulled and turned slowly, till the toe was again pointing to the sky and not towards the left. Jacks scream was drowning out the sound of the bone but Daniel still felt it vibrating through the leg...making his own hairs stand on end._

_"I'm sorry..." His words were washed away by Jacks pain filled wails, tears rolling down the older man's face._

_"Daniel! Stop it, now please, stop!"_

_"I have to do this, Jack!"_

_"Stop!"_

_"I can't, you'll loose it if I don't!"_

_"I don't care!"_

_"Well I do!"_

_Light..._

And then it was dark again. The light in the bathroom had gone out but Daniel could still see his eyes staring back at him, reflecting what little light there was coming in from the main sleeping area. They had been closed, briefly, but it was more than enough to time to re-live those terrifying moments. Jacks expression as he screamed, etched forever into his minds eye and he couldn't escape, couldn't get it out of his head.

"I'm sorry..." Daniel said again, or was it just for the first time that night? He wasn't sure, the fine line between what was in his memory and what he was actually living, here and now blurring far to much.

Pulling in shuddering, hungry breaths he staggered from the bathroom, dripping water as he went before collapsing down onto the bed, holding his pounding head, heat pouring out of him despite the swilling with the cold water all he could do was continue remembering. His mind playing it all back in slow-motion black and white.

_"We have to go."_

Daniel looked up, his eyes searching the darkness for the source of the voice. It was Mitchel, the Air Force Major had been knelt by him at some point and said that. Jack had passed out...the pain to much for the even the hardened special-ops trained veteran and Daniel had no intension of moving him again, not till he had recovered from Daniel's far from gentle hand as he literally snapped the bone back into place.

_"Snap to it, Jackson, pull your shit together and lets get the hell out of here."_

"No, no I'm not leaving him..." His voice cut through the silence, the raspy whisper sounding clear and crisp despite its rough edge. He felt drained and confused. What the heck was he doing here? All this had happened, gone before days ago, why was his mind insisting on playing tricks on him?

It had to be some kind of delirium, he was hot and with each desperate breath his chest felt like someone had placed a burning hot blade, dead centre.

He ran a hand over the area, trying to knead away the ache, his skin clammy but cold to his hot hands. If this was him supposed to be resting...he was in a lot of trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

Part Four.

Dr. Janet Frasier's day was getting better by the minute. And that was meant in such a way were if - you replaced 'better' with 'worse' and 'minute' with 'second' - you had a fairly good idea of what I was really trying to say.

All things considered, this SGC was still new, a year was a dot in the time-line for a facility of this importance and the listed personnel currently working on the base right now, was skeleton crew. The base was growing, and fast. It was one of the reasons she was rushed in and her application excepted on the spot. They had so many personnel - a lot of which were being injured or struck down with unknown illnesses on a daily basis. It gave the current medical staff a lot of work to do, herself included.

Sure she hadn't been here long, but already General Hammond was calling upon her for personal input, she half wondered if it was the fact she was able to explain her findings in such a way so he could understand, much like Captain Car-- Sam had said. It was a thought that made her proud in a way.

But not right now. Right now she was very angry with herself, for letting one slip through the net.

Dr. Daniel Jackson, as of yet had not turned himself in for his usual post-mission exam. This had to happen with everyone who came back through that gate or - well - she had seen the scenarios painted out in gruesome detail by the powers that over saw the management of the base, and she as CMO had to ensure those rules were upheld. So far she wasn't doing a particularly good job. Not if it meant someone had managed to slip through and avoid the checks completely.

The first thing she done was contact the General, Coming clean about the whole situation. Disappointed he was, yes, very. But he didn't seem that angry at her. Of course that didn't change the fact that she was mad as hell at herself for this.

"Dr. Jackson reported for the de-brief, as ordered." The General confirmed. "He seemed, off but then, he has had one hell of a time. Have a word with Captain Carter, I'm sure she knows where to find, Dr. Jackson, and failing that, get a security patrol out to retrieve him. Tough time or not, everyone needs to complete these checks."

"Yes, sir. Once again I can't apologise enough..."

"I know you're sorry, Doctor. We can't help these things are happening from time-to-time. It doesn't help you and your department are severely stretched right now, but I promise more medical personnel are being selected and drafted into the program. The amount of activity in and out of this base, we need it."

"Especially with the wild and wonderful things they seem to bring through with them."

"Not sure that's how, Jack sees it right now." A pause. "How is he?"

"Resting comfortably, sir."

"Give him my best as soon as he wakes."

"I will, General."

---

Sam wiped her eyes before shifting her position in the rather uncomfortable chair, she knew it wasn't a hospital as such and so such luxuries for visitors wasn't really considered, because right now, Sam could have done with one of those high backed, padded chairs. Even if the colour didn't much match the current decor.

She blinked to clear her bleary eyes, having managed to doze off sitting up the way she was. Jack's still form came into view slowly. He looked so small wrapped up the way he was in the pristine white sheets, making his face appear whiter still. Most of his head was wrapped beneath soft firm bandages, covering and protecting the wound, his mouth and nose were still sitting beneath the oxygen mask, the steady rise and fall of his chest proof of his rested state and Sam silently thanked God he was able to do that now.

She could only imagine the struggle and pain he had been put through. Three days riding a stretcher through a constant down-pour with only the basic medical supplies and medical help from a Doctor, though not of the right doctorate.

_"I..I can't do this."_

She cringed inwardly as she recalled Daniel's words - but it was his tone that told her far more than what he actually said.

"Sam?" Janet's voice pulled her from her wondering and turning, quickly wiping her eye, she looked over and smiled.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine. Is everything alright?"

"Well," Janet bit her lip. "I was hoping you can tell me where I can find Dr. Jackson, he didn't report in for post-observations."

"Oh, I took him to one of the rest areas, he was dead on his feet I - I'm sorry with everything going on I didn't think to ask him if he..."

"Don't worry about it, it's my mistake. Which room is he in?" Janet was pulling on her white doctors coat, making sure she had a few pieces with her.

"Oh, seventeen-a. Level twenty-five. He was wrecked, was about as far as he could go."

"Was he complaining of anything? Did he seem alright in himself?"

"Well, apart from being utterly exhausted, why?"

"The post-observations were put in place to avoid anything getting through the gate hiding in any of our people, I don't think I have to explain further."

"No," Sam agreed and she looked over at Jack. "You want me to come with you?" She willed the other woman to say no since there was no way in hell she was leaving Jack here alone, not after everything that had been happening to him, not after he had come so close to...

As if reading her mind, Janet shook her head. "No, just don't freak to much if I bring Dr. Jackson back with a security detail. It's just a precaution, one probably not needed."

"Definitely not, Daniel's pretty harmless." They exchanged smiled before Janet left again, taking one of the guards posted at the ward door with her and Sam silently hoped Daniel wouldn't freak to much. She knew how stubborn he was but then it was that stubbornness that had gotten Jack home.

_"I..I've got a pulse!"_

Daniel's frantic words flooded back as she lingered on the past events of three-days ago. She remembered thinking at the time the Colonel fell that he was dead, that there was no way he could come out of that alive and if he was alive, just what level of life would he have?

The infirmary was now silent again, say for the regular beating of the machines and the soft, steady breathing of the man in the bed before her.

_"I'll get him back, Sam, just be there."_

_"I will be, Daniel..._

---

_"...count on it." Daniel closed the channel of the radio and looked back down at Jack who was once again out cold. The stress he had been put under as Daniel had reset the leg to much even for him. He felt sick having done it, since he knew better than anyone - except Jack of course - just how bad it had been for him the first time he had broken that leg. He had heard from both Sam and Jack how bad it had been, and after sitting with both of them, for days at a time after the whole incident, seeing the aftermath, he could very well believe how bad it was. In fact after seeing the the state of them, what they then told him didn't seem to be bad enough!_

_"Weather's starting to close in, it's going to be some kind of storm." Mitchel confirmed as Daniel routed through the supplies Sam and Teal'c had managed to send down. He wasn't listening to the guy, he was to busy. He knew the weather was bad, hell he could feel it falling around him, hear the wind kicking up woodland debris and playing with the tree tops as if they were an instrument. It was a soothing kind of sound, but he wondered how long it would be before it turned into a frightening one._

_He found what he was looking for and started to unpack it, placing the pieces around Jack's body._

_"I'm gonna need a hand here," Mitchel didn't seem to be in to much of a hurry, but he eventually set to it and within the next couple of minutes Jack was on the stretcher, groaning quietly as he was disturbed. Luckily his leg was now strapped securely in the splint, straight and well padded. It kept his leg steady and protected it from any sudden jolts as both Daniel and Major Mitchel lifted Jack from the now soaking wet floor._

_"It's gonna be a long trek," Mitchel stated as they placed Jack down in a drier area and started to pack up the equipment they needed._

_"I know." Daniel checked each of the medical supplies. Gauze, bandages, morphine, sterilised needles and antiseptic wipes to name but a few._

_"Longer still because of, Colonel O'Neill."_

_"I don't see your point." Daniel's tone was flat as he concentrated simply on reducing the load they had to carry. Only the things they were desperately going to need. So...not the book on Mayan Cultures which he had brought, of which he shot to one side._

_"He fell, his could have died."_

_"I still don't see your point."_

_"He __**could**__ be dead."_

_"Major, its pretty obvious, being the kind of man I am, I am unable to digest the meaning of what you're trying to subtly suggest, so why don't you just come out and say it."_

_Silence._

_"Probably the smartest thing you've said all day, Major..."_

_"Daniel..." A quiet, desperate voice called out now to him and Daniel turned from his task to Jack. He had come to, for how long he could only guess and he shot a glare at Mitchel as he went to his friends side._

_"'Bout time you woke up." He muttered and having brought the blanket he had been rooting for, started to wrap it around Jack's shivering form. First went on the silvery one, then the material one. He tucked it behind Jacks shoulders and Under his legs, taking special care of the injured one._

_"W..well, I did tell you not to let m..me sleep past ten."_

_"The way you snore I'm surprised you don't wake yourself by choking on the duvet you practically inhale each night."_

_"Funny."_

_"You've taught me well." He started cutting into the set of wet weather gear and wrapped that around Jack to. Warm and now weather proof. He looked like a bundle, all that was left was to cast him into the river. He would probably float to considering how air and water tight Daniel had made it._

_"I'm starting to regret that..." Jacks eyes closed briefly, sweat and blood having marked the left side of his face. "Listen I-"_

_"If this is about what Not-So-Mighty-Mitchel just said, you can forget it. Save your strength for the trip, you're going to need it and I can't afford to expend my energy arguing about something I'm obviously going to win."_

_"My team is a democracy, Daniel. We have the majority on our side..."_

_"The majority can go take a long walk off a short peer, I'll drag you back myself and alone if I have to." He turned to Mitchel. "You're gonna have to shoot me to stop me."_

_"Daniel...__Daniel..."_

_---_

"...Daniel? Dr. Jackson, can you hear me?"

There was something different about that voice. No, not something. Everything. When had Jack sounded so...feminine? He knew he was hurt but...

"Dr. Jackson, can you open your eyes for me?"

He could give it a try right? But then why? He had finally drifted off to sleep...or at least he thought he had, since he still felt just as tired now as when he first closed his eyes he just couldn't be sure of that fact.

"...'kay" He dragged his eyes open just a little, they felt warm and itchy, especially the left one and he quickly closed that one, finding it irritated more when he done that. A warm trail ran down the left side of his face and into his hair. With one single eye he turned to the right, a pillar of light out-lined the figure currently sat by his side and he fought to focus on that face. Having just that second woke up, it was easier said than done.

"Dr. Jackson do you know where you are?"

Oh, a very good question and it was one he clearly had to think about. So where did he think he was?

"Am'strdam." If he was on a quiz show he would have won the jackpot by now. "W'it, no..." Time to turn the tables. "Who'areyou?"

"I'm Dr. Frasier."

"Oh." He literally jumped about an inch off the bed when he felt her cold hand touch his face and he reeled off a curse or two - one of which would have had his poor Aunt turning in her grave - when a bright seering light assailed his eyes.

"Easy, Dr. Jackson."

"It's Daniel."

"Daniel." Did she smile? Her voice changed slightly, he could hear her smile. "How long have you been feeling like this, Daniel?" Her hand left his face and went to his chest, an act that seen him jump once more. "Can you describe your symptoms?"

"I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge..."

_"...of that."_

_"I'm telling you this is impossible, Jackson!"_

_"And I told you, leave if you want! But I'm not leaving him!"_

"Daniel...Daniel? Are you still with me?"

"Yeah." Why was he gasping? Why did it feel like every breath was more taxing than it should be? Why did it hurt so much? His hand went again to his chest, trying to knead away the ache.

"Take it easy, Daniel." Frasier's voice was soft and her hand was now around his, preventing him from clawing at his chest. "You're gonna be..."

_"...okay, Jack. I promise."_


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five.

As bad as Janet seemed to think her day was, she actually considered that it wasn't possible for it to get worse. How wrong she was. As morning brought casualties, so did the evening. Twelve hours separating the third of the victims from the two that proceeded and all from the same incident. How had she over-looked this? A question answered only by her mind as her memory played its tricks on her.

Daniel was laid very still on the gurney as the assistance she had called for wheeled him through the double doors of her very own ER. The same doors that had swung open hours before, giving way to two other men pushed in, in much the same fashion. The only difference was that Colonel O'Neill and Major Mitchel displayed physical injuries, Daniel here was just a very sick man.

"How did he get by us?" One young nurse asked as the gurney was pulled to a stop inside the room and all Janet could do was shake her head.

"It's my fault, I should have made sure he was with someone..." Janet muttered as she lifted one heavy lid, wincing at the extent of the redness in his left eye. The pupil dilated as normal and as she checked the right, he seemed to come to just a little. He moaned slightly at her touch and even tried to get away from it, she had to admit it was better than the chat up lines some of these military types shot her way. "Okay, I want blood and sputum screens and a chest x-ray, wait scratch that, go CT scan. That's going to confirm my suspicions faster anyway."

"Temperature's worryingly high, ma'am thirty-nine point-eight." Her staff were just confirming what she already knew.

"Pulse is bordering one-hundred BPM, you're thinking its Pneumonia aren't you?"

"I am," She concurred before looking into the dazzling blue eyes gazing up at her, a few hours ago there were chocolate brown, dazed and bright but no were near this intense. "Get him on a drip, start the antibiotics. Keep up the fluids and monitor his temperature, if it continues to climb we need to take measures to bring it down before hyperpyrexia becomes an issue, right now this fever is just his bodies way of telling us he has a problem." His eyes seemed to search her out in the clouded daze he was struggling to understand and she frowned down at him, her heart literally breaking at the look he was giving her. "You're going to be fine, Daniel. Everything is..."

---

"...going to be okay, sir." Carter's expression betrayed her words of attempted comfort as she frantically searched the expanse of infirmary to call a nurse. Jack might have wondered what was taking so damn long but was still trying to get that damned mask of his face, something which had to happen if he was going to ask what the hell had happened. It sounded so easy, even the act he planned out in his foggy mind didn't seem that hard. Of course thinking and doing were two entirely different things...yet somehow both were as equally impossible right now since his hand only managed to punch himself in the head.

That hurt a damn sight more than he expected.

"Easy, sir. You've already had one bad knock, don't go giving yourself another."

Sure, Carter, just do me a favour and get this damned mask off me!

That's what he wanted to say but his mouth refused to work. His eyes were to busy watching her and those lips.

"Is everything alright?"

Finally! A nurse! And not just any nurse, one Jack knew well! Yes, here she was, Nurse Bridger, one of the few members of the night shift who knew Jack's grunts and groans well enough to know now, he wanted that freaking mask off his face, and yesterday.

"Yeah, he...he's just woken up. I dunno he looks..."

"He's fine. He's on some pretty strong pain-killers so don't be surprised if he doesn't make much sense."

Oh joy, there it went, now he could breathe again. Well sort of anyway. Being in to much of a hurry to speak he ended up coughing, the spasms tearing through his body amplifying the pain he already felt. His head, his back and arse, but mostly his head. The part of him he expected to hurt at least a lot was his leg, but at the moment that thing he couldn't even move.

He coughed some more not able to get it under control, that was until the mask was put back in place and that warm - kind of suffocating taste to it. After a few minutes of dragging it into his lungs, the fit finally eased.

"That's it, Colonel." Carters hand was in his, squeezing. When had that happened? And when had he decided it was a good idea to squeeze back? "Maybe you should leave that on for a while yet."

"Mebee..." His muffled voice replied through the mask. "W..when...how did...?" Jack tried to ask the questions, once that had been playing on his mind since he had come to in the infirmary ER. He'd tried to ask the guys working on him back then, but they were to preoccupied with making sure his body wasn't going to die on them, rather than appease his curious mind.

"Daniel...and Major Mitchel got you back."

Mitchel!? Jack almost surged off the bed causing Carter to jump back. He didn't mean to scare her but he had to stop that guy. The last he remembered, he was trying to kill him and if it wasn't for Daniel, he might very well have succeeded.

"Sir?"

"Step back," the nurse interjected, stepping in front of Carter and placed two firm hands on his shoulders, pushing him back easily. "Colonel O'Neill, calm down, I know it hurts but behaving this way isn't going to do you any favours." He collapsed back, arguing would only get him all asleep again, he knew how these guys felt about patients who refused to rest, if they felt it was for their own good - rest would be forced upon them.

Okay, so he needed to give himself a little time. And it seemed he had, well enough time to rest a little. Then he had to tell them and find out just were Mitchel was now, and if Daniel was okay.

---

The Colonel seemed to settle, but something in his eyes told her there was something wrong, that there was something he needed to tell her. Sam stepped back as the nurse worked around his bed side and adjusted the medication slightly. She seemed to think he was hurting - and who wouldn't after a fall like that?

_"Colonel!!"_

She closed her eyes at the memory of her own voice as she screamed down at the falling man, way out of reach. Her first thought as he hit? That she had lost him.

A thought that scared her in more ways that one. One way being, he was dead and she would never again see him. The second? That she was taking it so damned hard. The Colonel hadn't just died in that horrifying moment (which was thankfully, an incorrect assumption.) No, **she** had lost him. **She **would never see, talk, smile, touch, scent, taste... It was everything. Everything about him would have left her and that, that hurt her so much more than she had ever expected.

A thought to forget. One; because he wasn't dead and two, because she shouldn't have let herself think and...feel this way.

"Carter." She snapped to attention at the sound of her name on his lips and was by his side once more.

"Sir?" This time she made sure her hands stayed by her side, but she was all to aware of the hand that had held his. If she was the weird kind, she probably would never wash that hand again. Cool is, Carter and focus, your CO is trying to speak.

Trying being the operative word, since the Colonel's every word was followed by a cough. Her brow furrowed in concern and sympathy toward him, while that nurturing side took the initiative and reached for the cup of ice-chips. I little water in the mouth and throat would help and gently she pulled the mask down before holding a couple out for him in her fingers. Those same fingers that lingered by those lips and tenderly brushed them ever so slightly.

"Better?" She met his eyes, those wonderfully deep brown eyes which right now looked dilated for her to even consider he was looking at her in the same way she was looking at him. With a slight hesitation she placed the cup down and pulled her seat closer to the head of the bed and sat. He obviously had something to say, but by the way he was now laid, his eyes barely open, anything he had to say was going to have to wait. "Try and get some sleep, sir, everything is okay."

"Dan'el?" He croaked and Sam nodded.

"He's a bit tired, Janet - Dr. Frasier is giving him the once over now but, he's safe."

"Mit'chl?" His eyes slowly opened about half way and he managed to hold them there.

"Sir, please, get some rest." She stalled, she didn't want to tell him this, they had all found it hard to take when they were told but he had barely survived that fall, he didn't need the emotional stress as well as all this pain.

"Carter, spill."

Okay, that was surprisingly clear for a guy who was currently high on pain medication. "Dead, sir." She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. "The Major died this morning, just after we got you back."


	6. Chapter 6

Part Six.

It had been the longest three days of his life, but now at long last he was given the all clear. Various tests done on his back had confirmed there was no long-term damage to his spine, say for the bruising, but hell, if one falls off a cliff, one can expect a certain amount of that.

Jack O'Neill was now mobile! Well, sort of. So far because of the size of the cast and the other injuries - though not as severe - he had, a wheel chair was the only way he could get around for the time being. Which was fine, those crutches were hard work. So he had free run - well wheel - of the base. He had called in on George and Carter a few times, usually when he was bored and good-ol Doc Frasier was climbing the walls.

Well, it was about time she got to know him.

Teal'c was a star, in Teal'cs own room he had cable. Something Jack made sure the poor guy had since the Jafa was never allowed off the base. So there was CNN, and the sports channels available to keep Jack occupied when things got to boring. Teal'c also accompanied him on his more adventurous runs of the base and they even spared in the Gym, though Jack got the impression the guy was going easy on him, till he whacked him with his plastered leg and made a screeching escape before the enraged Jafa could get a hold of him. Jack really hadn't meant to catch him..._there_ at all. It wasn't like he could lift the damn limb any higher to avoid that, sensitive place.

No amount of apologising right now got through to Teal'c however and Jack made a metal note to buy him some peanut butter. The guy went crazy for the crunchy stuff.

So who hadn't he annoyed today? Jack thought as he tilted the wheel chair onto the two back wheels and started to push circles around the ward.

"Colonel!" A familiar - very familiar - screech came tumbling out of the office that adjoined the ward and Jack quickly put the chair down, though kept the circles going. If he got up enough speed it would be like a Ferris-wheel.

He could go see Carter, but no, she was off-world helping SG-2 with...something utterly scientific and boring.

Teal'c? No, not till he had the peanut-butter.

Daniel?

He glanced over at the guy in question and quickly decided against it. Jack couldn't remember everything about what happened back on that planet, but the parts he could, he knew Daniel had literally been to hell and back. Sure, it wasn't exactly a picnic for him either but falling off cliffs and living to tell the tale? Well, he was sure that was in the damned contract he's signed with Special-ops.

Cake, really.

"Don't you dare wake him up again," Janet warned as she crossed the room.

"I wasn't gonna!" He protested and continued wheeling his merry dance across the ward. "Besides, I already have his lap-top."

"What did you want it for anyway, sir?"

"Tetris, down-loaded it."

"So why don't you play it now?" Janet rolled her eyes as she narrowly avoided being hit in the shins by the damn chair he insisted on riding around in.

"Bored of it."

"Down-load another game?"

"I--"

"B..better.." Both Jack and Janet looked over at where the weak and raspy voice had come from, obviously Daniel since so far he was the only one here who sounded as bad as that, more so when he was coughing, like now.

Jack winced as Daniel lost control of the fit and the sound that was beat out of him reminded Jack of a time when Charlie had been sick as a young toddler. The cough then sounded painful, like it might force the body to eject vital organs, and it was no different here. He kept his distance, giving Janet the room she needed to help Daniel calm down and assume control again.

By the time she was done, Daniel was breathing through a mask and was wiped out, his eyes closed, his breathing - finally- returning to normal and a fine sheen of sweat covering his brow.

Jack thought for a second he had drifted back off, but again Daniel's eyes cracked open. His friends left eye was still very red but according to Janet was batter than it had been. Jack was out of it pretty much when Daniel had been wheeled in that day, so he hadn't seen just how bad he had been, but if this was better than that? Jack was kinda glad he hadn't seen him then or he might have just been worried out of his skull.

"...not." The single word, breathed out softly more than spoken, had the two confused. "Better, not." Daniel said again.

"Better not, what?" Jack asked, only to get a scowl back from Janet.

"Daniel, don't try to talk now, you're no where near strong enough."

"With all due respect, Doc. Daniel has to be one of the strongest people I know. You didn't see him fighting off a crazed lunatic." He grinned proudly at his friend who he could see smiling behind the mask.

"N..neither did you..."

"Well, admittedly it was at a bad angle for me but, Mitchel would have tore out my innards if you hadn't stopped him."

It was at this point Daniel's brows furrowed and two very bright and very bleary eyes fixed Jack with a very confused stare.

"What? Don't remember?" A small shake of the head and the brows continued to join together, though this time his friend seemed to be in a little pain. "Danny..?"

"No, that's enough," Janet stated in her best official doctor tone. "Daniel, listen to me. You probably can't remember right now because it was probably the shock of dealing with that kind of situation. Being sick won't help. This is your minds way of dealing with the Pneumonia first, before anything else. It's prioritising." A small nod but Daniel still looked to be in shock and Jack mentally kicked himself for having mentioned anything, and if Janet's look could kick, he would be taking one to the groin right about now.

---

"Ah, Jack. Glad you're here." George Hammond got up from his seat and crossed the room to quickly help the struggling Colonel through the door. "What happened to the chair?" He asked, noting that his second in command now had two crutches and was obviously annoyed with them.

"My ass kept falling asleep, sir."

Hammond tried to hide the grin, not exactly doing a great job since Jack had noticed.

"Besides, all that jelo I'm starting to develop a bit of a gut," he continued as he hobbled over to the waiting chair, falling into it, plastered leg left to one side while he flung the crutches behind him. "Least...this way I get a work out."

"Well I certainly hope you're not over-doing it, Jack. I want you and SG-1 back out there as soon as you're all able."

"I want us out there as soon as we're all able, anything to get away from, her." George sat and stayed silent, inviting Jack to divulge more. "Frasier, have you met that woman?" Jack said in a quieter voice. "Terrible, mean to the patients and between you and me, I think she likes a bit of the..."

"A bit of what, Colonel?"

Jack froze while the General smiled at the person who had just come through his, still open door. He turned, quickly painting a smile on his face.

"Hey Doc, fancy seeing you here." He quickly turned back to George when see seemed unimpressed. "Could have told me she was behind me." He muttered to which George simply laughed.

"Don't take it to personally, Jack. I'm sure you'll get used to not having your own way with the medical staff soon enough." His jaw hung open for a second before he snapped it shut as Frasier handed the General a file of some sort.

"Major Mitchel's autopsy report came back, heart attack, like I suspected." Frasier pushed her hands into her pockets as the General read on.

"What caused it?"

"As yet, unknown, sir."

"Could it have been, Daniel?" Jack asked, after all the last thing he remembered was the two fighting.

"I don't know, I've done every test I can think of. No blunt trauma to the head, no internal injuries, even the arteries are clear and tox-screening shows no evidence of drugs or foreign substances of any kind." She took a breath. "No history of heart-disease, no previous complaints and no complications of sickness which can lead to heart-disease. This man was fighting fit."

"And crazy." Added Jack. "Since I don't think I owed him money, can't think of any other reason why he wanted to kill me."

"Are you sure about that?" Janet said with a sarcastic lift of her brow. Yeah, she was definitely still mad at him about the whole, taking her for a ride, thing. It was probably the reason the wheel-chair had been given to someone else.

Mental note. Frasier is not a big fan of chat-up-lines.

"Sir, is Daniel in some trouble over this? I mean, I saw them fight, I've put that in my statement to and now Mitchel's dead..." The General had obviously considered this, it was clear by the look on the guys face as he readied his answer.

"There will be a full investigation, Jack, but since the Major died after a struggle with Dr. Jackson, who only intervened to save his Commanding Officer. Well, there's not a jury in the world who would send him down for that."

"And I'm not entirely convinced the heart-attack was the result of the fight." Frasier added. "And I'll make sure my report is very clear on that, sir."

Okay, Jack thought as he smiled. Maybe she wasn't _that _bad.

---

Dooley paced his room just thinking. He hadn't seen any of the guys apart from James since their last meeting. It was decided best that they avoid their little gathering while the investigation was taking place.

The first few days the base as a buzz of chatter and here-say about the attempt on O'Neill's life. He had heard all sorts of rumours. About how the General was doing back ground checks on everyone who had ever worked with or spoke to O'Neill. It was the guys on the security teams which were under the most scrutiny and Dooley prayed Jason and Tony would keep their mouths shut.

Then, everything went quiet. No one talked about it, seemed it was yesterday's news. Dooley couldn't figure out if this was worse, not knowing what was going, not knowing the way the investigation was going. By the third day he had decided the groups silence was only causing him to worry more and he called them all in for a meeting that night.

They were all due to start meeting up in twenty minutes but, James as always was early.

"Yo, Dooley." Came the familiar announcement and Cameron Dooley answered quickly, grateful to see the face of his friend.

"Hey, James." He moved aside, briefly noticing an unfamiliar face passing by to the room next door. "Oh hey, that guy's not in!" Which was good, since Dooley's meetings only ever occurred here when he was sure his neighbours were out. Being in the room on the very end of the hall made that a little easier. "Think he's off-world or something." The guy looked back over a book he was reading, pretty regular looking guy, short blond hair, brown eyes built well and on the tall side.

"This is my room." The guy confirmed. "Just got pulled in yesterday."

"R..really? Well, what happened to the other guy?"

"Shipped out I guess. I didn't ask."

"Right." This presented something of a problem and Dooley had to act fast, it would look way to suspicious if all the guys were seen coming to his room only for him to turn them away. "Listen, I hope you don't mind but, I arranged this...thing. Got a couple of the guys coming around for a drink, a birthday. If I'd had known the room was gonna be occupied I would have-"

"Oh don't mind me. Go ahead with the drink, just keep it down when it gets late. I got early rotation up-top."

"Sure! You sure?"

"Sure." A nod. "Maybe when I pull the late shift I can join in next time."

"It's a deal. Thanks." Dooley stood, watching as the guy went in before disappearing into his own room once more. James was stood smirking, arms folded and lent against the dresser.

"Smooth."

"Oh piss-off, James"

"You need to calm down, so far everyone but you has kept a cool head over this."

"Yeah well, I'm the one who started this whole thing, I'm the one who's gonna feel it when O'Neill shits on me from a great height."

"What the hell do you mean, Dooley? How many time's we gotta say this, no one here done anything!"

"Will you keep your voice down!" He snapped when James' voice carried, hopefully not beyond the walls. "How do we know that guy hasn't been moved in to spy on us?"

James just stared.

"Don't look at me like that."

"You're loosing it! Come on man, your my buddy I don't wanna see you crash like this." James hands found his shoulders and he shook gently, as if trying to shake some sense into his comrade. "What we done was harmless, got a few laughs that's all! I bet O'Neill would even see the funny side, the guy's not that much of an Ogre."

"I know but, you can't look me in the eyes now and tell me it's all coincidence. We joked about him being mowed down by a car when he had Nigel's ride towed. We thought it would be right funny if his own weapon back-fired when he had Pete, patrol the gate-room with a mop. Harmless fun or not, it's coming back to bite us in the arse. Someone in here is putting these ideas into practise, and we have to find out who."

"How?"

"We have to come clean, we gotta tell Hammond."


	7. Chapter 7

Part Seven.

"What?" Jack asked again, he was mad, yes. But he was also confused. Why would these losers plot to kill him? More importantly how the hell had they been able to almost pull it off? Most of these guys couldn't even make a decent pancake. At that thought he fixed the one from the commissary staff with his icy stare, the guy then paled.

"I believe these are the people who conspired to assassinate you, O'Neill." Teal'c confirmed for him to which Jack had to ask.

"What!?"

"We didn't!" The one called Dooley, and apparently the group head added quickly, and without permission from the General who was looking slightly red in the face, obviously furious. "I..it wasn't so much as a conspiracy, more of a...joke."

Jack looked up from his seat, mouth slightly agape as he digested what had just been said. "Funny." He added and he hoped he had been sarcastic enough about so they knew he didn't find it funny at all.

"Why?" Carter asked, her jaw set rigid, hands still in her lap. He couldn't ever remember seeing Carter loose her cool, he had a feeling he was about to now.

"Well..."

"Your superior officer just asked you a question." Hammond growled and Dooley visibly started to perspire.

"It was just, a way for us all to blow off steam when you, sir," a gulp, Jack could have swore he heard it. "Humiliated us."

"In what way?" Jack asked with a level of calm and control that certainly did not reflect the inner chaos of his mind as he, slowly imagined the worst kind of torture for each one of them. And then it hit him, he knew these guys! Slackers, lay-abouts and reckless fools one and all. "Wait-a-minute!" Jack stood and pointed at a guy at the back. "I caught you skate-boarding in the gate-room!" He pointed to another. "You thought running through the female locker room, naked was was a good idea, and you!" He pointed at Dooley. "I caught you sleeping at your post!" He snarled. "I'm guessing the humiliation I dished out, you think, was out of order?"

Silence.

"You're right, it was." He said calmly, and then, when they looked like they thought they were going to get off the hook, he erupted. "**Because I should have had the lot of you shipped to that fucking ice hole where I broke my leg the first damned time!**"

"There's still time for that, Colonel." Hammond confirmed fixing each member of this 'club' with a very disapproving glare. "General Adam's is always looking for more hands."

"But sirs."

"Shut the hell up, Dooley!" Jack bellowed once more. "Do you even realise what you've all done! You put my team through hell because you couldn't keep one of your members under control, I almost died and there's still a member of my team seriously ill!" Jack calmed down and pulled in a breath. "You can be the one to tell the Majors family of his death, since you were all so friendly."

Dooley, now a little red in the face. "I'm sorry, sir. Who?"

"Major Mitchel, your little club member." Silence and a lot of blank looks and blinking. "The arse-hole who tried to kill me!" He started looking for his crutches, he needed to hit someone.

"Sir, all members of my urh...'club' are present and accounted for."

"You mean," The General began. "Major Mitchel was not a part of this, conspiracy?"

"No sir. Our ideas, yes but we would never put them into motion." Dooley swallowed.

"How can we believe that?" Carter asked, her blue eyes fixed pointedly on each one of them stood on the other side of the conference table.

"Because, we want who-ever has done this caught, which is why we're here. We just wanted a laugh, it was all just a big joke, none of us would ever consider taking it as far as...as it's got." A pause. "The only thing we're guilty of is not being the best we can be and, finding it hard to accept the fact that you were just trying to encourage that."

"I'm not interested in the whole 'I understand now' story. This isn't high-school and I'm not your damn teacher!"

"I..we know. But...why would we come forward and own up to this if we were truly guilty of the crimes?"

"I hate riddles." Jack snapped and sat down rubbing his right leg, it was aching like crazy since he'd gotten himself worked up and he hated to admit it but, that was a very good point.

---

Daniel really hated places like this. It was bad enough when he was just visiting his one relative in hospital but actually being a patient, it was torment. It was probably the reason why he avoided that post mission examination, deep down he knew he was sick and he just wanted to avoid the place at all costs. Something he would never do again if it meant he got another lecture off Dr. Frasier. As soon as he was strong enough to listen and concentrate on what she said, she came right at him, nothing held back.

After that however she couldn't have been nicer and he guessed that was probably because she was blaming herself, which made him feel pretty bad since it was his decision to sneak away. Still, her lecture had hit a few home-truths. The checks were there for good reason, one of which being the safety of the rest of the base. What if Daniel had a damned Goa'uld in his head? The people to suffer would be the people he loved the most. No, he would be a good boy from now on.

It was quiet. To quiet. Usually Daniel fell asleep at the sound of Jack's Tetris game and Dr. Frasier pulling out her hair when Jack pushed her to the limits of her - so far - limitless patience. But tonight, it was so peaceful.

"Hey, Daniel." Dr. Frasier appeared from nowhere and he shot her a weary smile, one which she could see since the mask had been replaced with the less suffocating tube just under his nose. "How you doing tonight?"

"Fine." He replied, his voice clearly strained but thankfully speaking didn't trigger another coughing fit. "Q..quiet tonight." That did however bother him slightly and he struggled to swallow down the irritation.

"Yes, the Colonel was summoned to a meeting with General Hammond. It's been going on for hours, must be something important if it's held his attention for this long." Her smile was infectious. "So, just noticed on the menu there's a variety of soup I think you'll like."

"Oh?"

"Chicken."

"Urgh, no thanks."

"You have to start to eat, Daniel. There's only so much I can do." Her hand found is and she tapped it gently. "Just half a bowl?"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Looking at me cough like that.."

"Hey if it gets me the sale!"

"Will you leave me be if I do?"

"Promise, and I was in the Brownies so that means something."

How could she be so happy? He wondered as she walked away.

---

Okay so he had to admit, it wasn't so bad at all. In fact it left a warm bloated feeling inside which in turn made him sleepy. Well that and the pain killers. Apparently a side effect of the Pneumonia was aches in joints and muscles, but Daniel was pretty sure his aching was a direct result of the cross country hiking he had done back on that wretched planet. But then walking wasn't all he done. He had to drag Jack with him, to save him, to get him home.

_"Daniel, you can't..."_

_"I can-" He snapped back as he struggled up the bank. The ground was soaking from the down-pour and came away under his feet. He reached out before he slipped completely and grabbed a hold of the first thing he could, which happened to be a dead tree. He gripped it hard, not caring for the amounts of splinters he could feel, tearing the skin of his hands._

_He looked back, the stretcher as it trailed behind him, the body of his friend laid perfectly still, say for when the make-shift sled bumped its way past a mound or branch at which point Jack would moan slightly. He was doing his best to limit the rough way the stretcher moved past these obstacles by taking the smoothest route to the top of this hill. As such it made Daniel's trek longer, but if it meant Jack was relatively okay it was worth it._

_With gritted teeth Daniel pulled himself and then Jack up the last of the really steep bank, using the fallen tree as an anchor. Finally with something to hold on to the pace picked up a little and some of the pressure was taken off his fatigued legs. He scrambled the last few yards, stomach first through the mud and sodden woodland debris, before rolling onto his back to grab the line that connected him to the stretcher, and pulled._

_Jack, finally was on level ground and no longer at risk from slipping back down from where they had originally started and Daniel sagged down, gasping for air, feeling the freezing chill around him seep down into his chest as he done so._

_"S..see! See!" He called between gasps, the proclamation directed at Jack, and Mitchel - where ever he was. "It's not...not impossible." But he got no reply, they were probably just pissed he had managed to prove them wrong. Yeah, that was it._

_He stared up at the clouds, just visible through the canopy above. Just a minute or two rest and he would start again. Finally up the worst part of the climb, all they had to do was head north-west now across a level field, at which point they were to rendezvous with Sam, Teal'c and the search and rescue team._

_Typically, they would have stayed put in the area Jack had fell, but with the torrential rain it was feared the surrounding area would become unstable and prone to mud-slides, and being buried alive just wasn't something Daniel wanted. The irony didn't escape him. Here he was, an archaeologist - a profession famed for digging stuff up - how ironic would it be for someone to have to dig him up! Ironic and damn unfair._

_He coughed. And didn't stop. It hurt, a lot and he tried, hard to get control and swallow down the discomfort. As frustrating as that was and as annoying as the ache in his chest was becoming, it was a blessing really since Daniel realised he had fallen asleep, or passed out._

_Rolling on to his side, he tried his best not to trigger another coughing fit and he took care not to exert himself to much as he again stood and started to pull Jack across the mud._

_"Home stretch." He wheezed but again, no reply came from his friend or Mitchel - where ever he was._

_---_

"So," Jack began again rubbing his eyes. It had been a long afternoon and the pain meds he was on for the numerous minor injuries and obviously, his leg, where starting to wear off. Not to mention he hadn't had his nap. Not that he was a child or anything but, hell it had only been three days since falling off a cliff and it was only the last day or so he had been able to stay awake for any length of time. "You guys thought up this stuff, joked about it, never met Mitchel, who - bizarrely enough - carried out every nearly fatal attempt on my life that you all dreamt up and you have, no idea why?"

"That's pretty much it, sir." Dooley stated, hands threaded together on the table before him. Being the group head it was deemed he was the one who needed to be here and since he swore that each member of his 'club' were innocent, well the others had jobs to do and they weren't getting out of their duties lightly. Not that this guy was having any sort of picnic here.

"Well I'm just..." Jack began to which Carter sat forward.

"If I may, sir?"

"Go ahead, Carter."

She nodded and turned back to Dooley not really questioning him, but doing what Carter done best, thinking out-loud and managing to ask the right questions.

"So, just say we believe your story and you all are innocent. How would Mitchel get a hold of your ideas and put them into action."

"And why." Teal'c added.

"That's easy, Teal'c," The Jafa raised a brow at the blond Captain, inviting her to explain. "Misdirection. Mitchel takes each idea dreamt up by you guys, you have a crisis of conscience and come forward with the intention of helping. We don't believe you and you and your men are questioned and marched before a court-martial for them to decide your fate."

"But I saw Mitchel trying to kill me." Jack offered, now sat back and swinging slowly n the chair, trying to push the aches and pains to the back of his mind.

"That's right, sir. But think about it. If you hadn't survived, if he actually killed you and got away without being detected. He would have committed murder and we would be interviewing the wrong people."

"A cunning plan." Teal'c nodded and Jack had to agree.

"Sneaky-"

"So, for what it's worth, I believe you." Carter looked to Dooley who closed his eyes in relief.

"Don't think you're off the hook, Dooley. You or your misfits."

"Sir."

"This still leaves us with a question not yet answered." Hammond sat forward, having listened only for the past few minutes. "How did Mitchel come to know about you and your 'club' and its...ideas?"

"I really don't know, sir."

"Maybe a search of Mitchel's belongings, or his room." Carter offered.

"His things have already been packed away, and the room given to someone else, but you're welcome to check any of them out if you think it will provide you with answers, Captain."

"Wait..." Dooley interrupted, looking worried all over again. "His room was already given away?"

"That's correct, son."

"I think I might know which room that was then..." Again he closed his eyes in what looked to Jack like disbelief, but if Dooley thought _he_ was having a bad day, he wanted to try sitting for so long in this damn cast!


	8. Chapter 8

Part Eight.

"So, chances are he probably heard you all speaking." Carter surmised as Dooley confirmed his room number, which surprise surprise, was right next door to Mitchels. Jack had to admit it was all pretty concrete evidence. It certainly fit well, except for one thing really.

"Why?" He asked. "What the hell did I ever do to the guy!?" It was just something he had to know. As far as he knew, he'd never met the guy until a couple of weeks ago when he was assigned as part of the team watched Jack's neighbourhood and later accompanying SG-1 on missions when the freaky accidents continued there too. He was still smarting from some of them, the gun back firing especially. That episode certainly knocked him on his backside for a good few hours.

"Maybe he was like Dooley and the others, though instead of joking about it, he took it further using their ideas to cover his trail." Carter again offered a pretty solid reason, but something with Jack just wasn't sitting right. "You okay, sir?"

"My arse has gone to sleep." He complained and shuffled to try and sort that particular problem out since standing was out of the question.

"We can continue this another time people." Said Hammond standing. "It's late and I'm sure, Jack at least needs some sleep."

"That's an affirmative, General." He said flatly not bothering to stand also as Hammond left the table, fingering Dooley to follow the senior officer into the more private surroundings of his office. "Leave some for me, sir!" Jack called, shooting Dooley with more one glare before the door closed on them. No way was he finished with the guy.

---

The base at night was a strange thing. With all the artificial lighting and the air - which had a kind of artificial taste to it too, since it was pushed through the ventilation from above - it was hard to tell when it was night or day really, but it was the mood really that changed the place. Maybe it was the vibe the people here on the night shift gave off, or maybe it was some kind of sensation, a by-product of dreams, since most people would now be sleeping. Or maybe Jack could just hear everyone snoring. What ever it was, there was a definite change to it all.

"Sir?" He looked up from watching his feet, not realising he had been thinking so intently on, not only his feet and how he had to keep them moving but, of other stuff. Like what had just been going on the conference room. He still found it hard to believe a guy he never met before wanted to kill him because he may - or may not - have trod on his toes at some point. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

"I dunno, you gonna hit me if I haven't?" He knew all to well the fury of a woman's wrath, and just what a good right-hook most of them had. Sarah had one hell of a right-hook, heck, his jaw ached just thinking about it.

"No, sir." Carter confirmed with a giggle, her bright blue eyes sparkling a little and something happened in Jack's stomach that caught him by surprise a little. Now why the hell would he get butterflies simply because he made her laugh? "I was just saying, I'm gonna go and take a look at the Major's room, see if there's any indication he was perhaps spying on Dooley's group. Teal'c checking out his stuff and..."

"Am I really that bad?" He interrupted her. Sure he was glad she was keen on confirming they had found the right guy, but something was bugging him. "Was I really so hard on those guys that they would think up all that stuff?"

"No, sir. I don't think you are at all."

Sweet of her.

"Sir, no. Don't you dare think like that. They done something wrong and you punished them, you went easy on them if you ask me. The rules, the checks, the protocols, they're all there to protect us and the base. By seeing those rules are upheld you're protecting us all. It's the kind of guy you are." She smiled. "Besides, I think the reason they all done that, was because they were jealous."

"Ya think?"

"Yes, sir I do."

"Thanks, Carter."

"Anytime, sir."

A pause.

"You want a hand getting into..."

"Oh, you offering?" A mischievous glint formed in his eyes. Sure, there were regulations about dating people on your team, but there was nothing to stop him flirting, right?

Wait-a-minute.

Was she blushing?

"No, now that I think about it, you can struggle." She finally answered, her smile bright and wistful. "Good-night, sir."

"Night." He muttered long after she was out of ear-shot.

---

Okay, now he was wishing he hadn't scared Carter off with that really cheesy line, since now he was almost at the infirmary his arms were killing him. The crutches were hard work and the added weight he was carrying along with him in the form of a plaster cast wasn't helping.

Okay, now he really wished he hadn't pissed Frasier off with that equally cheesy line and had the chair confiscated.

Man, he was loosing his touch.

With a determined grunt he rounded the corner and beheld a sight he never in a million years thought he would be happy to see. The infirmary doors. A couple more hops and he would be in the nice, warm, comfortable bed. The hallway bobbed before him as he hobbled towards his target, the promise of finally being able to lay down giving him that bit more get-up-and-go.

He was to focused on getting by that he didn't give the guy ahead of him a second thought. And why should he? A week or two ago he might have been a bit more cautious since there had been attempts on his life, but with the guy responsible for all of that now locked up in the morgue, there really was no need for him to show that kind of caution.

A way of thinking he now wish had reconsidered. He should have trusted that gut feeling of his since it very rarely let him down. He knew everyone had that sort of 'feeling' that extra sense, his had been honed sharper than the blade now currently buried in his hip, why hadn't he listened to it?


	9. Chapter 9

Part Nine.

_The guy was fast, strong and frightening. He looked human, the way he moved was human but with underlying mannerisms that were anything but human. His eyes were dark say for one pin-point spot which seemed to emit light, the whitest light. It was as if the light wanted out but the man stood before him now, bloody knife in hand had trapped it inside himself. Wanted to hold it there._

_A smile. _

_Not just any smile. A smile that meant he knew he was winning. That the man before him now was at the last of his strength. The kind of smile a predator gave its prey before it sunk its teeth in ready to gorge in the imminent feast._

_His hand gripped the knife before him, the blade pointing sky-ward and the shrapest edge now coming towards the battle-weary man beneath him._

_"This battle was not meant for you." He said, his voice deep, it was Mitchel's voice and that part at least was familiar to Daniel, it was the other sound that made his head spin with questions, made his heart beat frantically with every laboured breath as he laid there fearing for his life which - looked very much like it was about to end. It had a ringing to it. High pitched, just out of range of his own sense, but he could feel it, tingling his back teeth and the back of his neck. Every word was laced with this sound and it helped seduce Daniel who had been fighting for such a long time now. Fighting to get Jack back home and away from this mad man, but Daniel knew Mitchel wasn't mad. He was possessed. "This battle wasn't part of my contract, this battle I will be seeking further compensation for." The blade swung by Daniel's face and neck making the terrified and exhausted archaeologist almost wish he would just do it and end this terror. "You fight well, you were not meant to cause a problem. An over-sight my employers will be paying for."_

_"W..who are you?" Daniel finally dared to ask, somehow gripped by those eyes, and the light inside. A sneer was his only reply, the gesture human and completely evil, two things that all to often went hand in hand, but Daniel now knew, as those two eyes fixed pointedly on his, that this was no mere man._

---

Janet jumped when she heard the scream and slowly turned putting down her coffee to glace around the infirmary ward. It had been so quiet all afternoon and evening, most of her patients were sleeping soundly, even the one now currently calling out it seemed.

Daniel's rough, raspy voice croaked the inaudible words he was trying to communicate. He had been so restless for the last hour or so but sleep was sleep and she let him be, but now it seemed that restless dreaming had turned into a full-blown nightmare.

With a urget stride in her walk she crossed over to where he slept and turned the light on hoping that would help in the process of waking him easy, last thing she wanted to do was make this worse by giving him the fright of his life. Her hopes were dashed however when he continued to moan and thrash. He had been perspiring but as touch confirmed he was no hotter than he had been, all she could think of was that it was some deeply suppressed fear re-emerging from his subconscious. After all, he had admitted to some memory loss, the bit he having lost was the battle with Mitchel. Perhaps that was starting to return and Janet frowned in worry and pity for him as he all-but sobbed out a call for help.

Her hand went to his face and she used his name, trying to call him back to reality, trying to gently pry him from the grips of this terror.

"Daniel, shhh. It's okay, you're dreaming." She cooed seeing him settle a little. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek when he whimpered back a reply and she called to him again. "Daniel, can you open your eyes for me?"

"Sh..Shu're..."

His wife. She smiled, a bitter-sweet feel to it as she realised who it was he was weakly calling for. It was romantic and so heartbreaking.

"No, Daniel. It's Dr...it's me, Janet." His eyes finally opened, giving way to tears that freely ran the length of his face as he turned to her. He blinked sleepily once and tried to turned away, obviously ashamed to have shown so much emotion. "Hey, it's okay Daniel. You were dreaming."

"Sorry."

"What? No, don't be. I just wanted to make sure you're okay." She withdrew her hand when she realised her thumb was still moving back and forth over his flushed cheek. "Was...was it about your wife?" Those bright blue eyes turned to stare at her, as if offended she had even referred to the woman he loved, as if it was a crime to have mention her existence. "I..it's all on file." She explained. "I like to think I know my patients well enough to understand what they're going through. Guess I just feel better prepared. I'm sorry, I hope it doesn't seem like I was prying or..."

"No, no. I know you wouldn't. I just, well, never mind."

This guy really was far to secretive, she decided.

"So, what was it about?" He blinked up at her with a frown. "The dream." It seemed to take him another couple of seconds to take that in and gather his thoughts.

"W..where's Jack?" He suddenly asked, looking around the ward with a frightened look in his eye.

"He hasn't come back from the meeting with Hammond yet, why?" Now he was awake, Daniel was looking very agitated and started to sit up, an action that saw him pale suddenly. "Hey, not so fast you're still on the mend." She scolded though with barely a hint of malice in her voice. "Do you need to talk to him, about...?"

"No, I just...look can you just find him, make sure he's okay?"

"I can send Wally out to find him. He was under instruction to come right back here after the meeting. He can't be far, why?"

"And can you tell, the General I need to report something now?" His eye's were closed as he tried to adjust to the upright position.

"Of course." Really Janet wanted to get him to lay back down and sleep, if necessary she would have given him a little something to promote that but, there was something in his tone, his eyes that said this was to important to postpone.

---

The blade came at him again, the deadly metallic edge catching the dim light in the hall and Jack brought up his hands to intercept it. He let the bade pass enough so he could grab the guys wrist and twist. His attacker yelped as his entire arm was twisted the wrong way causing him to let go of the bloodied knife. It clattered harmlessly to the floor and was promptly kicked away back Jack's good foot.

Now he had that problem sorted, both were now evenly matched - well if you over looked the fact that Jack only had one good leg and was bleeding profusely from the corresponding hip. The wound hadn't been enough to kill, which was something of a riddle to the ex-black ops soldier, but that just gave him one more blessing to count really.

With an awkward step into his attackers space, so now Jack's back was against the guys chest without never having let go of his wrist, so now the limb was bent at an impossible angle. The guy screamed, but there was something odd about the sound. It literally went right through Jack and stung his ears and hurt his head. Enough he lost concentration and let go.

Both men staggered back from one another, Jack holding his leg, the assassin holding his now rather limp arm. During this moment they studied the other, Jack trying to spy any distinguishing features - like a face - and commit them to memory because he had a feeling he wasn't going to be up to chasing this guy down. As his casted leg slipped on the pool of blood now at his feet that fact was assured true, but hell, it wouldn't stop him trying.

The assassin was on the tall side - but so was most of the base, this being the military. He wore, green fatigues and black boots - damnit Jack! He wore a cap. The damn thing done enough to hide most of his face the lack of light in the hall helping to add to that effect - not to mention the darkness creeping into the edges of his vision, he didn't have much time left, less if this guy decided to have another go.

As it turned out it was Jack's lucky day.

"HEY!"

The assassin turned to fix the approaching male nurse with a very angry glare, while Jack just fell back against the wall to avoid any more unwanted injuries as his would-be murderer fled.

That had been to close, Jack thought as he sagged back against the wall but then, the amount of blood currently about his feet and now smearing the wall he was sliding down, if he didn't get that particular problem sorted out and soon, his would-be murderer would, in fact, _be_ guilty of such a crime.


	10. Chapter 10

Part Ten.

Yup. His career was officially over. A thought that bought with it a certain amount of shame and disappointment, something Dooley never thought would happen. He always thought he wanted out of this life but now that that moment was quite possible here he was actually a little, sad. He figured he had just became accustomed to it all and hell, he had definitely made some good friends and he hoped they would continue to stay in touch when they were posted in the back-of-beyond and he was serving a prison sentence.

A sobering thought and he guessed he had better start packing. Wait, would he be allowed to take his stuff? Well, better pack just in case.

He turned the last corner head still down, watching his feet so he didn't notice the figure stood at his neighbours door, not till he was reaching for his own key and lifting it into the lock.

"Oh, Captain."

"Private." Carter offered back before turning back to the door, which Dooley now knew to have belonged to Mitchel before the new guy had moved in.

"Hey I never got the chance to thank you for..."

"Don't thank me, Private. I might have believed you but no way do I condone what you did."

He felt his face turn a deep shade. "No, neither do I." He muttered and quickly pushed his door open and disappeared inside.

---

Sam shook her head when Dooley entered his own room glad to be rid of him. She didn't want to nor did she see the point of making small talk with a man who organised a whole 'fan club' against her CO. The thought made her blood boil, considering the Colonel was kinda taking it all a little hard. He was tough and put up that front, but just a few minutes in the corridor she got the impression it really was bothering him and her stomach knotted with both anger - at Dooley - and Concern for the Colonel.

She raised her hand to knock on the door again but go no reply, and reaching for the master key which she had been given by the CO for this level, she pushed it into the lock and turned. The door unlocked and Sam pushed it open, feeling a little weird searching someones room without permission, but this was important. She just had to keep reminding herself why.

She braced herself for the worst, after all the guy who had lived here - and of course the guy now residing here - were guys. She had grown up with two brothers and knew fine well just how revolting they could be. But then this was the military and it always managed to surprise her just how disciplined men could be when closely managed under a routine like this. The room still smelt a little funky to her. Manly feet and manly smells, all of which made her nose wrinkle as the air from inside rushed out as she entered.

Like most rooms it was dark inside, being so far under-ground there were few, if no windows and so she hit the light switch.

The room was tidy, the few belongings the personnel were allowed to keep either packed away in the drawers or on display in the room. Photo's of family and obviously, the occupier. She took a moment to make herself familiar with one of the shots so that if he did return she knew who she had to explain herself to. He was broad built with blond hair, and a very dazzling smile. He looked the friendly sort and an array of books lining one shelf told her he was one of the more cultured killers of the base.

Sam stood in the centre of the room, hands on hips as she tried to figure out where to look, and what for. After all the room had been changed since Mitchel, who's to say - what ever it was - was here?

A brief search showed nothing and a little disappointed she sat herself down on the bed and rubbed the back of her neck. It was aching, not doubt a symptom of her fatigue, after all it had been non-stop since she got back through the gate. Her ears were ringing to, not so much uncomfortable, but definitely irritating. It was making her head ache.

And then she saw it.

From her spot on the bed she could see a vent. Even from this distance she could see two of the screws were missing and not lingering a moment longer, she got down on her hands and knees to check it out. The panel come away really easily and she was able to peer inside the blackness of the vent beyond...or at least she thought it would be black. Something she could see was shining back at her.

"What are you doing?!" Sam jumped out of her skin, obviously the rooms occupier had returned only to find a strange blond woman inspecting his floor. She silently cursed her luck as she quickly scrambled to her feet and turned.

The guy looked, hurt. He was breathing heavy as if he had been running and his right arm was limp at his side. The cap he wore hid his face well, too well and Sam found herself backing off slightly.

"I..I'm sorry but General Hammond ordered a search of your room. It's nothing to do with you, more to do with person who had the room before you."

Silence. Except for the ringing in her ears.

"I'm almost done. I think I found what's causing the problem."

"Oh really?" He took a step towards her and Sam found herself wondering if she could run by him. The guy was huge, but hurt so maybe she could take him if needed.

"Yeah, something in the vent." She judged the distance between her and the door. "I can go and get a team here to remove it." She started to pass, but he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back with such force that she collided with the wall behind her, her head banging solidly off it.

By the time her senses returned enough to realise she was in big, big trouble, he was all but in face and she could now see his eyes. Dark, so dark with a strange light in the centre of his pupil. It was like a beam, as if the light inside him could only escape through that point, focused at that point and pointing directly at her. It hurt her eyes as she looked into them, trapped as she was, but she couldn't look away. And slowly...the light was all she saw...

---

"I don't follow, Dr. Jackson." The General stated and he rubbed his eyes wearily. He had been here about ten minutes listening to Daniel ramble on as the still slightly dizzy archaeologist tried his best to not only explain, but remember at the same time.

"I think, or rather I don't think Mitchel was to blame for the attacks on Colonel O'Neill. I think it was something inside of him."

"Like a Goa'uld?" He asked, Janet however answered that for him.

"We found no traces or evidence he was infected by such a being, General."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," Daniel began, rubbing his eyes tentatively as he tried his best to remember more of the details. He knew he knew...but it was like his mind had been wrapped in a warm goo.

"Daniel?" Frasier had come closer, though he hadn't heard her or noticed her hand which was now on his hand pulling it down from his face.

"Sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, look you've been through a lot. I did tell you it would come back in time, don't force it."

"I need to, this is important because Jack could still be in big trouble."

"From what, though, Dr. Jackson? I can't afford to post men to the Colonel again, especially when we do not know who or what they need to be on the look out for."

"I know General, but I know...something is still here." He closed his eyes briefly and having given up trying to find the answers in his own head, Daniel went back to doing what he done best. Asking questions. "What killed Mitchel?" He asked.

"He...he died from Cardiac-arrest."

"Brought on by?"

"As yet, unknown."

"Okay, so heart attack. But, you're a good doctor. You could have brought him back?"

"Could have and should have. I did try but..."

"But what?"

"Well, the equipment, the first crash cart shorted out. We had to rush in another one while I done chest compressions. I think if we had the use of the first cart we could have saved him."

Daniel frowned. "Shorted out? How?"

"I don't know, it's being looked into now."

Daniel continued to frown hitting a blank everytime he tried to remember. He knew what Janet was saying had to make sense, he could almost see the answer as it dangled just out of reach of his comprehension. It was that point the lights in the entire ward started to flicker, adding more irritation to Daniel's growing headache, but it done something else.

Light then dark, light again and then...

_---_

_"Arrggggh!" Mitchel's body writhed and spasmed as the lighting struck the man. The storm had been building up for hours and was nearing its grand finale. Their fight had continued on regardless of the environment, all Daniel cared about was stopping this Hunter from doing what he had been contracted to do. Paid to kill Jack._

_Promise of his own safety didn't matter to him, Daniel wasn't going to sit by and watch as this Alien bounty hunter killed - what he thought to be the Tau'ri leader. Daniel half contemplated whether he should tell the guy this, that the Tau'ri had no single leader, that there were many, all speaking and representing the different people of the planet Earth, but that might cause even more problems and so it was a fact Daniel chose to keep to himself._

_The flight had gone on for so long, Daniel was amazed he had been able to keep the guy back for this long. At the end of his strength all he could do was back off as Mitchel and the Alien Entity inside gathered up some kind of charge, ready to fell the civilian, not caring that he was expending resources on someone he was not being paid to kill. It seemed Daniel had caused him much more trouble, and now that course of action was deemed necessary._

_Mitchel had stood and seemed to gather energy from the very world around them, not aware that a strike from the lightning storm above them would also be drawn to the man. He screamed as the folk drove through his, very human body and into the ground through his feet, Daniel, in shock and on the verge of collapse hypnotised by the sudden flashing of the light..._

---

"Daniel?" Janet tapped his face lightly. He was obviously exhausted and by the time the lights had come back on she had found him collapsed against the pillows. He moaned softly and his eyes flickered open briefly. It was best to let him sleep, she decided and slowly adjusted the head of the bed so he was laid down once more.

"What do you suppose he was trying to say?" Hammond asked, still utterly confused.

"He obviously thinks there's is much more to the attempts on the Colonel's life than we all think." Janet finished fussing over Daniel and started walking with the General back to her office. "He may have a point, who's to say the Goa'uld are the only species we know who can take a host? What if Mitchel was possessed?"

"And, the Heart-attack was caused by, what?"

"The stress of that 'Entity' leaving the host body?" She shrugged. "I'm only theorising here, sir. I can't tell you more till I know more myself."

"Is there anyway to determine what Dr. Jackson is saying from Mitchel's body?"

"All we can do is try. I'll rush those other tests through, sir and as soon as I know you..."

"Dr. Frasier! Come quick, it's Colonel O'Neill!" Wally called from the door of the ward and Janet wasted little time in following him out and into the hall, the General following and suddenly Daniel's words of warning were confirmed. This wasn't over.


	11. Chapter 11

Part Eleven.

Dooley closed his door and with a resigned sigh he stared at his room and all of the stuff he had collected over the months he had been working here. Sure, it wasn't a lot but, it was the memories he guessed. Memories with the best bunch of guys he had ever met. All trying to find their way on the world and wanting to have a bit of fun doing it. Finding them his life didn't end up as miserable as he thought it would have...and he was going to miss them, something he would never admit to their faces.

Pulling off his jacket he sat on the bed and let his head fall into his hands. The General had told him to pack up and he would be shipped out first thing in the morning to face a court-martial for his behaviour, and it was only now Dooley actually realised what O'Neill had saved him from. The irony wasn't lost on him as he realised how much he wanted to have the Colonel dish out one of his more imaginative punishments. Like doing the washing up in the commissary in nothing but an apron. Or, cleaning the locker rooms, _really_ cleaning the locker rooms, using nothing but the contents of his own soap bag. Tooth-paste and the tooth-brush were pretty effective at removing those mildew stains, and the place sure did smell cleaner after wards.

He laughed to himself.

In a way, O'Neill was a little like him. Trying to get by, and having a laugh doing it. If only Dooley had realised that sooner. Seen the funny side to the Colonels reprimands.

Better late than never, or so they say. Dooley just wished that applied in this instance. It didn't. He was still in big trouble and he was still on his way out of the program and possibly jail.

His train of thought was disrupted by a crash of some kind coming from the room next door and Dooley let it slide. Captain Carter was looking around the room, she could have easily knocked something. He was packing a small bag with some clothes when he heard the next clatter this time followed by a shout. This bothered him and cautiously he opened his door and peered into the hallway beyond. The Captain was pissed with him and he didn't think he could take another ear-bashing today.

The racket continued, though it was...a quiet sort of disturbance. He could hear movement, quick, frantic movement. The sound of clothes rubbing against itself and the boots as they hit thr floor, but not walking, no...like, struggling.

No longer concerned with his own pride and protecting it, he stepped out and hurried to the door of the next room. It was open and he looked inside at the scene. Terror gripped him as he saw Captain Carter pinned to the floor by his new neighbour! He had one hand gripped around her throat and he was pressing down so hard she couldn't move or lift herself up. He was choking her. Her legs lashed out, kicking at anything and every direction, either trying to contact her attacker or get someones attention.

Well she had it.

With no further concern for himself Dooley ran in and gripped the man with his arm, locking his neck in a tight head lock and pulled back, dragging him off of Carter. She gasped and coughed, rolling onto her side, obviously okay while Dooley done his best to wrestle this insane bastard down and hoepfully keep him there.

He held on, even as the attacker backed into a wall, making sure Dooley took the full force of the blow. He felt the uneven surface press into his back and the wind explode from his lungs as a second shove drove home and hurt like hell. All he could do was bare the brunt of it and continue to pull back on his arm and pray the guy passed out before Dooley ended up with some serious spinal injuries.

He growled, biting back the pain as a third shove can and went, the fourth was a little easier to take. The guy was starting to weaken as slowly his oxygen was limited to the muscles he required to keep up this pace.

"Go down you dumb..." He pulled back again, harder and this time the guy dropped to one knee, gasping and wheezing. He was red in the face and slowly turning blue but Dooley wasn't about to let up till he was down, for good if necessary.

With one finaly throaty wheeze, Dooley let go, seeing the Captains attacker fall face first into the cold floor, out cold.

"You okay, Captain?" He asked, reaching down to help her up, wincing when he saw some pretty heavy bruising already starting to form around her neck. "We should get you checked out, ma'am."

"No..." She quickly snapped, her voice sounding like she had just gargled with glass. "Is he..?"

"Not dead, ma'am. He's still breathing." He reported as he checked the pulse point of the unconscious man.

"Good, we'll need to ask him some questions..." Carter rubber her neck and coughed.

"Sure you're okay?"

"I will be, soon as I know what the hell is going on." She looked at Dooley and then smiled a little. "Thanks, by the way."

"No need for thanks, ma'am. I kinda feel responsible for all of this." He looked down at the guy shaking his head. "Guess Mitchel had an accomplice..."

"I don't think so. This guy was only drafted into the program a couple days ago, after Mitchel returned dead from the last mission."

"So why did he attack you?"

"I don't think _he_ did." As if on cue the body at their feet started to writhe and spasm. Both of them looking on in disbelief as a bright light emerged from the now open eyes of their fallen man. It hovered there briefly before drifting...almost weakly towards the air vent.

"It's getting away!" Dooley exclaimed but Carter just shook her head.

"No, it's not." Without another word, she knelt down by the air vent and reached inside, pulling out a small mechanical orb with shone dimly.

"What's that?" He asked.

"This, is our assassin."

---

"I still don't get it." Jack was very honest when it came to these things. If he didn't follow, then he would let you know. What made it worse for Sam and Daniel was that he was still in pain and laid up - with not only a broken leg but a pretty bad knife wound to his hip too. Sam had tried her best to explain and it was clear she was in some discomfort with her throat, the angry bruising around her neck probably not half as bad as the damage that was caused on the inside.

"Basically," Daniel began, sitting forward in the chair, he himself was feeling well enough to finally tell them his side of events and not get to confused with fever and what ever else had been wrong with him. "This, thing was contracted to kill the leader of Earths military force." Jack blinked. "You."

"But I'm not..."

"I know..._we_ know, but _they_ don't."

"Who don't?"

"Who ever paid this alien to kill you."

"But it didn't."

"I know...but...will you just...stop that."

"Stop what?"

A deep breath was then taken in by the SGC's - so far - only archaeologist.

"Alright, sorry. What you're trying to say is this thing possessed, Mitchel?"

"Exactly, sir."

"How, I mean why him?" Daniel held up his hand and proceeded to answer.

"Mitchel was part of the team that took me to 773." At Jack's blank look Daniel elaborated. "The planet with all those rocks." Realisation and so Daniel continued. "Well, a lot of the find were just that, rocks, in the shape of these orbs. We still have no idea what the significance of them are, but, the device that Sam found in Mitchel's room is an exact replica, only rather than a carving, it's actually a device. I saw no evidence of this on the dig that day, but the similarities are incredible, it must have come from that same place."

"So how come you didn't this thing before today?" It was Sam's turn.

"We done some back ground checks on Mitchel, he was actually working for a government branch called the NID. Seems he's been selling on artifacts and the pieces of technology that he manages to smuggle out, to them."

"So...he finds this...thing. Doesn't document the find, keeps it to sell later to the highest bidder?"

"Yes, sir."

"But," Daniel continues Jack's train of thought. "The entity inside takes control of Mitchel and uses him as it's tool to try and get close to you, Jack."

"And is using ideas from Dooley's club to throw us off the scent of who the real assassin is." Adds Sam with a definitive nod.

Jack takes a moment to digest this information, chewing on his bottom lip before speaking once more. "And this other guy...the one who likes to play with knives?"

"He inherited Mitchel's room, sir, and the alien device was still hidden away inside the vent."

"But how did this, alien get from Mitchel's dead body, to the other guy?"

"According to, Sam the entity she saw was...some kind of energy and Janet reported that when she was trying to revive Mitchel, some of the equipment shorted out. Could be it escaped using our own energy source and had free run of the base."

"Ahh." A nod. "So who sent this thing after me?"

"No idea, sir. Could be the Goa'uld I guess. They know were out here now gathering technology and knowledge."

"Like there own Trojan Horse." Daniel added. "We bring it back, and this thing is inside ready to cause havoc."

"Sneaky." Jack added. "So where is it now?"

"Teal'c and Sg-2 have it sealed away and are disposing of it as we speak, sir."

"Oh good. Not sure how much more of this I could take."

"Likewise, sir." Sam smiled as she rubbed her neck and coughed.

"You okay, Carter?"

"Yes, sir. Little sore but, I'll survive."

"How did you get out of that, Sam?"

"Dooley, actually. He came through in the end."

"Who's Dooley?" Daniel asked looking to both Sam and Jack for an explanation. After all, he had been out of it while most of this was going on.

"Long story," Jack stated and grimaced as he tried to move to get comfortable.

"What? It's not like you're going anywhere."

"Oh but I am. I'm going to sleep."

"But you just woke up."

"Yes. The difference being this time I can actually close my eyes and not worry about someone trying to kill me." He grinned as he turned out the light. "Night, Daniel."

"But," He turned to Sam who just laughed and got up. "Sam?"

"I'll tell you later, Daniel. My throat is real sore."

"Oh, okay." With a sigh he sat back and threaded his fingers together. He could wait. He would have to wait, but at least he had something to amuse himself with, thanks to Jack. With a double click on the icon on his lap-top, Daniel settle back to play the tetris game and try and beat Jacks high-score.

The game music started and was heard around the ward, despite not being turned up that high. It was quite fun now that he was playing it and not just listening to it. A sentiment shared by his friend who groaned from beneath his covers.

"Daniel."

"Jack."

"Will you turn the music off?"

"I thought that wasn't possible." Daniel grinned as Jack just sighed having been caught out. Daniel had been very much out of it, yes, but he spent most of his time falling asleep to this tune because Jack just wanted to irritate Janet. Maybe next time he would decide to be a little more helpful.


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue.

Okay, so maybe now he was wishing he had gone to jail. His friends to were wishing the same thing. Least they would be warm and be within walking distance of a pub. Where the were now meant they were confined to the base until scheduled leave and even then walking anywhere wasn't recommended unless you were able to wear twenty layers and still be able to take a step in any direction.

But still, they were all together here, working along side each other and still able to enjoy themselves, so that now Dooley thought about it, jail would have been a drag as no way would he had been able to take his friends there with him. Not that they were that thrilled to be here with him now, but they were all guilty and they had made their choice.

Because of Dooley's actions, saving the life of Captain Carter and helping to stop the assassin, the General gave the group a choice. Dooley going to jail for conspiracy, or the group re-posted to ice-station-zebra to help uncover the site where the second gate had been found.

He chose prison. Everyone else went against that and decided to take the punishment as a group. It was a memory he clung to in the coldest of times now.

"Yo! Dooley!" He turned from his task of securing equipment down as a storm was fast coming in, to see James stood by the main compound door. "We got mail! Hurry up!"

"Alright, gimme a minute!" He called back, the force of the wind carrying some of the shout with it, but James heard and understood.

Five minutes later Dooley was in the rec-room brushing the white snow out of his dut.

"What's going on?" He asked seeing everyone of his friends there, all waiting for something.

"We got a package." James shot it to Dooley who read the cover. "'To the JAO club.'" And in brackets 'Jerks Against O'Neill'. He laughed. "Okay, so what was inside?"

"This." James hit play on the video recorder and everyone gathered around as the TV showed a very much recovered Colonel Jack O'Neill, laid back in a sun lounger, sipping something exotic in an equally exotic climate.

"Dooley!" O'Neill spoke to the camera as if speak to him. "And various associates. Hope you guys are having a good time at ice-station-zebra. Just thought I'd drop you a line to tell you I'm fine and have managed a whole mission without a fatal accident." He set down the drink and adjusted his sun glasses. "The rest of SG-1 say hi." The camera then panned around, first to Teal'c who was stood by a pile of coconuts, then Captain Carter and then the camera man, Dr. Jackson who waved before pointing it back at Jack. "The General has been hearing some good things about you guys so far, keep it up and you to could be laid on a beach just like this one. But...not for a while yet."

James sighed. "That guy needs a good kick to the balls."

"Well, I'm due back on Earth in about an hour, but in the mean time, I'm gonna sit back, eat some coconut, while you fellas get back to work. Yo! Teal'c!" Without further warning a coconut sailed into view and landed on O'Neill's lap, hitting him rather hard in the groin. The guy froze, his hands slowly pushing the huge nut away to...nurse some other...well...

"Sir?"

"Was that, 'cut' Jack?" Jackson asked, the smile evident in his voice as his CO just toppled off the sun lounger. The feed then ended and all eyes fell on James.

"_That_ was not me!" He stated.


End file.
